Dragonborn's Journal
by Britnah Northwind
Summary: Skyrim... a game where the most insignificant character has its own journal... What about Dragonborn?
1. The final challenge

" _OH DAH VIING_!" I shouted to the skies, as the mountain trembles beneath my feet.

For the first time in very long, I was avoiding my challenger. I don't even know who he is. He simply appeared, next to the Scorched Hammer in Riften, and propose me a challenge: I must send him to Sovngarde with honor… but right now, I fear for my life instead. If I'm not careful enough, I will be the one that may return to Sovngarde… for good, this time. Because that man, hided in his ebony suit, proved to be the strongest foe I ever fought with.

That 'last vigil' as he called it, way high in the southeast mountains, was like a bloody arena. I had called my strongest allies: two dremora lords, Karstagg, Durnehviir, and now, Odahviing.

The two dragons circle in the air above us, shouting fire and ice at the same time. The dremora twins keep him busy while I give consecutive blows at his back. As for Karstagg, he looked almost amused every time he throws the ebony warrior against the rocks.

Even so, the guy resisted. And that armor… was far from ordinary. I can sense its magic protecting him. And it is powerful enough to amaze me, the last dovahkiin, the arch-mage of Winterhold, the harbinger of the Companions, the champion of Oblivion! Plus, his sword appears to feed on my life force at every blow, and every black arrow that trespasses my armor freeze the flesh around the wound.

The dremora twins rushed back to Oblivion innumerable times, just for me to call them again. The dragons were hovering for so long that started to land, breathing deeply and exhausted. Only Karstagg appears to never lose his grip. However, I feared that he doesn't hold it much longer: I have to be careful. When I battled against him, the deal was that he will serve me, as a sign of respect, but that I can only call him three times. And I cannot waste either of them. I cannot let him die. Neither of us! I will not die at the hands of that man! Not being taken for fool to be slain by someone who asks me to send his soul to Sovngarde!

As the warrior pushes the dremora away again, he began to run in my direction, with his sword ready to strike.

So I focused, try to ignore my will to run away from his path, I inhaled deeply, and as he gets closer, I spoke. " _KRII LUN AUS_!" Die now! Let that purple glow cover every inch of yourself! You're marked to death! Now you will parish!

But in return, the guy's sword caught me. The wound was deep, as I see my blood flowing to the frozen ground. The pain made me scream like I never did.

"Dovahkiin!" Odahviing roared above me, landing a few seconds later, standing protectively between me and the warrior that was now beginning to feel the effects of my Thu'um. That gave me time to heal myself, as I heard Odahviing biting him relentlessly.

When my wounds finally closed, I saw Odahviing exhausted, with deep cuts on his snout. Durnehviir has landed the other side, trying to get the warrior attention. He could take his blows better than the red one: a dead dragon cannot feel pain.

"You bastard!" I screamed, attacking with everything I have. "Stay away from him! _FUS ROH DAH_!" I saw him being projected against the rocks. Durnehviir shouted again at him, as Odahviing fought against the pain of his haggard snout, incapable of further battling.

When the warrior managed to stand up, he repaid me back. " _FUS ROH DAH!_ " This time I was the one projected violently against the hard scales of my defeated ally. " _Frolaaz… zey…_ [Forgive… me…]" He spoke, spitting blood from his mouth.

The warrior rushed to me, preparing to stab my fallen body. I had no time to put myself away from him. And so Odahviing, in an effort, whipped him with his tail.

I didn't lose any more time. I came to him and I swung my sword with all the strength I have. To my horror, the man slowly stood up again. "Die, damn it!" I spited. " _ZUN HAAL VIK_!" He spoke. I seemed paralyzed, as I felt my sword being ripped out of my hand and threw down the mountain. Who was that man?!

"Is that all you've got?" He shouted with a sick laugh. He came to me again, and I was so terrorized that I couldn't move. He had his sword inches above my head, when a giant hand grabs him like a child grabs a doll and furiously shoots him into the icy ground. Karstagg. I looked the giant king, and smiled in gratitude. He shook his head, and somehow I felt all my powers refilling me.

I summoned the dremora twins once again. "He's weakening every second! May we attack him all at once! _Mu fen all_! [We will destroy!]" I screamed to the heavens, raising the Mehrunes' Razor. In a new impetus, we all attacked him. Within our circle, the trapped man, weakened by my Thu'um didn't had a chance. " _YOL TOOR SHUL!_ " I spoke, one last time. This was for Odahviing! I kissed the Razors blade. "Kill him at once, my lord!" I pledged to the daedric prince of destruction. And with that, I launched it: the blade crossed the warrior chest like it was butter.

"At least… Sovngarde…" He said as he faints away. But then a purple light came out of his body to fill one of the dark soul gems I was carrying. At my side, Durnehviir purred loudly, in what is the closest thing a dragon has with a laugh. Then, I get it: he used the Soul Tear shout on him. " _Daar los fah hi, zeymah._ [This is for you, brother.]" He said to Odahviing. "Now he will never enter Sovngarde." "Durnehviir, you evil _dovah_ … [Dragon]" I said to him with fake disapproval in my voice, sounding rather soft. Truth is that I couldn't think in a better punishment for that man's arrogance. Like he was apparently listening to my thoughts, the dragon answered. "You're welcome, _qahnaarin_. [Vanquisher]"

"We shall go, master!" The dremora twins spoke, right before vanishing into sparks, back to Ovlivion.

Next, the floor trembles again, at the steps of the white giant that approaches. "Karstagg…" I always respected him, now more than ever. The big giant knelt in front of me, looking me straight in the eyes. His time of service has long passed, and yet he stayed until the end. He saved my life. "Thank you." I was amazed when I saw his lips twisting into a smile. Then he took his hand to his chest. "Honor." He struggled against the word to come out of his mouth in his guttural voice, before standing up and disappear in blizzards.

"I think I should go, too. _Tiid wah daal hofkiin_. [Time to return home]" Said Durnehviir behind me. "For the first time in my existence, I wish to return to my realm, just to see his face, when he realizes that he ended up in the wasteland of lost souls, _himdah do nimun_. [Land of nobody]" With this, he took off, disappearing above the eburnean clouds.

Next, I came to see Odahviing. He was better now. His wounds had begun to close. I wanted to help him, but there's nothing I could do. Ironically, a dragon may be susceptible to destruction magic but it's immune to restoration spells. All I can do is waiting for him to recover. Luckily, it's also truth that dragons have an extraordinary power to regenerate. And after long minutes, the red dragons face was back to normal. Then, he shook his head and stretched his wings. "Feeling better?" I asked with a smile. " _Geh_. [Yes] But I have to confess that I've never took this long to recover." "He was strong…" "Indeed. But you were stronger." "Not without some help. _Nox hi_. [Thank you]" "You are truly honorable, dovahkiin, _dii zooruv kinbok_. [My legendary leader] As far as I know, giants don't talk. And yet their king bended himself before you, and forced himself to speak." "That's something I will never forget." I answered, with my voice softened, as my mind lived that moment once again.

Odahviing attempted to the dark body in the snow, and walked to it. I joined him, and pulled the Razor, firmly craved on his chest. Immediately, the armor closed all its rips, and before I even have time to make sense of what just happened, it was brand new. "Interesting…" Commented Odahviing, as he touches the ebony armor with the tip of his nose. "Are you going to take it?" He asks suddenly. "Why should I?" "This hide was the source of his power. Left this to be taken by the wrong hands and we will be forced to fight it again. Besides… it's more likely to suit you better than him." "Perhaps…" Maybe he's right. And all this fight… was something I will not be eager to repeat. So I ordered Odahviing to turn backs on me, as I changed myself.

I was pretty amazed when I found that the man behind the suit was a redguard. "Odahviing! Come see this!" The dragon turned, and purred loudly. "See? I told you! Look nice on you!" "Not me, silly! Him!" I pointed to the man layered on the snow. "A redguard?" He sniffed the man with curiosity. "Came from Hammerfell?" "Who knows? He must wander these lands for long. He knew the Thu'um. He was learning the words. What if he was another dragonborn?" " _Nid_. [No] That's impossible." "Don't be so sure. I defeated Miraak, not long ago… and he was supposedly the first dragonborn to exist. Prepare yourself to take off!" I ordered as I mounted him. " _Geh! Wah faal lok!_ [Yes! To the sky!]" I need to talk with the Greybeards.

At my command, Odahviing landed in High Hrothgar courtyard, causing the Greybeards to rush on us, alarmed. "Dovahkiin?" Called Argneir, as the others prepared themselves to battle. "Who is that dragon? Is it with you?" "Yes." I simply forgot that I've never introduced the Greybeards to Odahviing. "So these are Paarthurxax's disciples?" Odahviing asked looking intrigued. " _Zu'u zent soven lahvu do kendov ko hez dwiin qah, ni dopaan do ronir_. [I expect (a) secret army of warriors in bright steel armors, not (a) group of monks]" " _Mu vis hon hi, dovah_! [We can hear you, dragon!]" Arngeir spoke assertively, much for Odahviing to angrily spit flames from his nostrils, forcing the priests to step back. With that, I thought that it was time to let him go. " _Daal wah strunmah. Nii los tiid fah hi wah stiildus tum_. [Return to (the) mountain. It is time for you to calm down]" Without answer, he flew off.

"I see you became fluent in _Dovahzul_." Arngeir noted. "Paarthurnax is a good teacher." "Who was that dragon of yours?" "He doesn't belong to me. _Zu'u fen neh piraan dovah ol dii engein._ [I will never claim (a) dragon as my belongs] He's an ally of mine, and I had to prove myself to him in order to earn his respect. He brought me here so I can speak to you." "Speak about what, exactly?" "Do you recognize this armor I'm using?" Argneir inspected the armor cautiously, before he looks to me with a shocked expression on his face. "Where did you found it?" "I looted it from a redguard warrior." "You… you killed him?" Bingo! They knew him after all! "Why?!" He demanded to know. "He approached me and said I was the only one who can send him to Sovngarde with honor. He named me his final challenge." "By the Gods…" Arngeir looked paler than usual and I feared at some point that the old man would dismay right in front of me. "It was his last desire, and it is fulfilled." Then I remembered I was lying – right now Durnehviir must be twisting the warriors' soul and mind into madness. "Are you telling us the truth, Dovahkiin?" He asked again. "I have no reason to lie. Besides, I was nearly killed in combat. He was by far the strongest foe I had since my arrival to Skyrim." "In that case, sorry I doubt of you. I can only wish him a good reception in Sovngarde." "So he… trained here, right?" "Yes. He and Ulfric Stormloak." Now the story of Ulfric shouting upon Torygg makes sense! And I used to think that those guards in Windhelm drank too much mead… "Ulfric too?" "Yes. Back then they were two little boys rescued from the orphanage. We gave them shelter and share our knowledge with them. Unfortunately, they both left the monastery before they can fully comprehend the Way of the Voice. In their innocence, they believed to be ready to face the world ahead and all its dangers." "Who of them was the dragonborn?" I asked, confused. "Neither. They took decades just to learn the Unrelenting Force shout that you learned in seconds." "That's the only shout they had ever learned?" "Yes." "What if I told you that the man who wore this armor knew the Disarm shout?" "I've heard whispers of its words, but I do not know that shout. He must have learned it by himself, which is a remarkable achievement." "So you didn't have any news about them since trey left?" "The last thing I remember about Keldr, the former holder of that armor, was the day he came to us saying that he felts ready to leave, and discover his homeland. If he learned the Disarm shout before leaving or after return, I have no idea." "And where this powerful piece of armor came from?" "He made it himself. Keldr was a hard-worker. He divided his time between High Hrothgar and the College of Winterhold. Sometimes, he spent weeks in there, before returns home. And at some point it came to our ears that he had become one of the best enchanters in the College. I remembered perfectly from receiving letters from the college asking permission to extend his stay, so he could help on the main business there: enchanting armors and weapons for anyone who will be willing to pay for it. Of course, he received his share, and when he amounted enough to buy sufficient ebony for the armor and weapons, he crafted and enchanted one on the same day. When he returned, I can barely recognize him. He said goodbye to Hrothgar in the next morning." "And Ulfric?" I asked, now driven purely by curiosity. "Ulfric was the first to depart, few months before Keldr. He was a great student, and back then I believed he would be the one who can make the votes and take the robes of the Greybeards Order. His tenacity was unmatched. Unfortunately it ended the moment he mastered the Unrelenting Force. At a glance, he got cocky and ambitious. Upon his departure, he said never intended to die in here, and that he expected another life to himself. He didn't take long to murder the High King with the very words I taught him." He spited the words, disgusted. "He didn't make his goal to proclaim himself the new High King, but he managed to take the Palace of Kings as his new home, and usurped the title of Jarl of Windhelm. And the rest you should know, right? His great plan, the one that can kill many more than just one man?" His voice sounded angry this time. "The insane idea to bane the Empire from Skyrim, and make it independent. How many men that would die just for that miserable to fulfill his lifetime goal…" "So you're saying that Stormcloak morality has nothing to do with the nords?" "To its soldiers, I believe… but not to Ulfric. He proved only to be greedy and relentless. He will do whatever it takes to hold the Jagged Crown, even if that means to start a civil war." "So you are for the Empire, then?" "We are for neither of the two sides. Every side is both right and wrong. Wars like the one we have ahead will only serve to claim hundreds of innocent lives."

I was still thinking on the words of Arngeir when I left the monastery. And believe it or not, I now feel more intrigued by Ulfric's story. Maybe because he is the only student of the Greybeards that remains alive… or because of the war that approaches, only moved by his ambition.

In my way home, I descended the largest mountain of Skyrim, and passed by the few pilgrims that dare to take the Seven Thousand Steps, a dangerous path in order to read all the ten etched tablets along the way. They do so only as an act of faith. I heard, mainly in Irvastead, in which that journey begins, that the people that choose to climb the mountain seek commune with the Gods. Some of them even say that animals will be kind for them, and that every road in Skyrim becomes suddenly safe to travel by. I don't know if it's truth or not. As for myself, every animal that I've encountered in my path or flees or it rather tries to kill me. It isn't for the Gods, and even less because of the hostile wildlife, that I still climb that mountain by foot, instead of calling Odahviing to give me a quick ride to the top. Reading those tablets made me reflect on my own powers and on my path, as Dragonborn.

Once I arrived to Ivarstead, I sat down by the borders of the Darkwater River that flows nearby, before bending its course to northeast. I looked at my reflex in the calm waters. All I see is the armor. Like Odahviing said, it's a powerful armor… and its user can be anyone. And right now, I feel like I lost my identity, somehow. I'm looking to the Ebony Warrior. Who I am doesn't seem to matter anymore. I am Dragonborn… but I also could be a farmer or a miner. It doesn't feel right. And it feels even more wrong to use it after lying to the Greybeards about the destiny of Keldr.

So in the next moment, I mounted Shadowmere, and rode to home as fast as the mare could take me.

My house – main house, because the fact is that I own several – is located in Whiterun: it is called Breezehome, just near the gates of the city, right after the Warmaiden's. There, I switched the ebony armor for one made of dragon bone. Besides, this one has a special meaning to me: it almost feels like the dragons whose souls I absorbed now fight aside me. I always respected the _dov_ [dragon-kind]. That's not going to change. But in my journey as Dragonborn, some of them just gave me no choice. Besides, denying a challenge to a dragon is the worst insult you can give to them. They seek honor in battle, in a way astonishing similar to the Nordic warriors of Skyrim.

As for the black cursed outfit, it will be destined to be treated like a personal trophy… just as many items I managed to collect during my adventures.


	2. Werewolf issue

The moment I step foot back on the streets, a woman rushed to me. "Harbinger!" She called. "I'm glad you're here. We have a problem." "What is it, Aela? Another saber-cat got stuck in some man's house, again?" "No. This time it's a bit worse… it's a werewolf." "What? Farkas lost his temper again?" "It isn't one of us. It's a wild one. It managed to break into some house in Falkreath, and killed the family who lives in it. Any guards that entered the house to take care of the problem never came back." "I see…" She was gazing at me, eyes full of anxiety and lust. She was probably controlling herself right now to not transform in the middle of the street. And it was always amusing to me… seeing her being tortured from inside out. "I will take care of that… issue. Do you have some additional requests, Aela?" I couldn't avoid not smirking as she starts to bend herself before me, swallowing saliva before she asks in a soft voice. "I will be honored… if I could go with you…" I looked at her, enjoying her attitude. From the circle, she was considered the most aggressive, and now here she is, behaving like a pup. "Very well, you can come. But only if you promise not to give me any trouble." "Of course, Harbinger."

We reached the gates of Falkreath by sunset. The whole town was desert. A single guard awaited us by the gates. "Do not enter the town!" He screamed in panic. "We have a beast inside these walls! Stay away!" I could smell his fear. For God's sake, I could hear his body trembling beneath the armor! "Calm down! Where are the other guards?" "They tried… one by one… none of them got out of that damn house! The only ones left are those assigned to protect the Jarl." "And where are the citizens?" "They're inside the Longhouse, of course!" "Very well, go join them. We'll take care of the beast." "You… you two are the warriors sent by the Companions?" Even though I cannot see his face under the helmet, his voice sound alarmed. "Yes, we are. Go meet your comrades in the Longhouse, we can take it from here." I heard Aela, behind me, growling lowly. I have to hurry sending that man to safety, or the next time we set foot in the hold, we'll end up in jail. "It's your funeral. The Jarl has called for additional reinforcements from Whiterun anyway…" Then, he ran to the safety of the Longhouse. "Bastards will never learn that the only way of winning this fight is by working together." Aela commented.

She started to rush her pace towards the house. Before she gets time to enter, I stopped her. "Remember the part in which you swore not causing any trouble?" She exhaled in frustration. "The town is desert. Please, I beg you. Just let me in, and by the time I got out, you can give him the final blow." "Aela…" Her eyes began to change from their silver tone to a rich luminous gold. She can't hold her inner beast for much longer. "One night… you'll know…" And then she rushed inside, leaving behind an unfinished sentence, spoken between her fangs.

First I heard roars of hostility. But soon they changed into long pleasant howls between whines and gasps. "Damn it, Aela…"

 _Ever since we lost Skjor for the Silver Hand clan, she changed: first, she became distant from the rest of us, and then she simply disappeared at night. No one knew anything about her location. And sending the twins after her didn't work either. So if I wanted a job well done, I had to do it myself. One night, I found her, gazing the moons above, sitting at the edge of the Skyforge. She passed long minutes lost in the moonlight. Then she took the Underforge's secret exit to Skyrim. I didn't want her to see me, so I walked behind. Along the way, after the city was left as tiny walls in the dark horizon, I saw her changing in the distance, howling desperately to the skies, before run off. At some point, I lost her visual, so I followed her scent, which sent me to the swamp regions of Hjaalmarch in the misty area near the Abandoned Shack where I first met the assassins of the Dark Brotherhood. Between the mists, the icy waters, the deathbells emerged from the mud, and the distinctive sound of the nirnoots, I sensed another smell: the smell of feral werewolves. What the hell was she thinking?_

 _I ran as fast as I could, with the swamps trying to sink me at every step, while I fear for her life. We could somewhat maintain the actions of our beasts between certain limits, but not feral ones. Just caught one of those in bad mood and you will not see the next sunrise._

 _And then I spot her, a shadow between the reeds. And she wasn't alone: at her side was a big male. Yet he didn't look interested in doing her any harm. She began rolling in the ground, and both start sniffing each other. Then the sniffs turn to nuzzles, and before I even believe in what I was seeing, the two were mating in front of me, growling and howling loudly to the night sky. "Why…? Why I didn't stay home?"_

 _I knew Njada was a great confident of Aela. So the next day, when I caught her alone in Jorvaskr's main hall, I asked her about my suspicions. "Do you know if Aela had something with Skjor?" Her eyes widened, and she took several seconds to answer. "Something like what?" "Were they dating, in the past?" "Why's that?" She asked, even more surprised than before. "I'm just asking. And I expect you to answer." "Harbinger…" She exhaled. "The truth is I don't know either. They went out to hunt by night very often. And the rest of us started to suspect of something between the two of them. But when I faced her with such rumors, she denied everything." "I see…"_

 _That very evening, at dinner time, everyone was around the table, preparing for the night feast… everyone except… "Where is Aela?" I asked. "Don't know. Maybe she's out again…" Answered Ria. "She probably went on a hunt." Said Farkas. "Hunt? Again?" Asked Vilkas. "It wouldn't surprise me. It's what she loves to do." "Very well. Eat. I will look for her." Everyone stared at me, as I stood up. I wasn't hungry anyway…_

 _In fact, it didn't take long for me to find her. All it took was to enter the Underforge: she was praying at the Totem of the Hunt. "Don't come to dinner?" "I'm not really hungry, to be honest." "You know, I think it's about time for you to come back to your pack…" "What do you mean? I'm just not hungry!" "Of course, then you sneak out to hunt in the middle of the night!" "So what?! I'm a hunter! It's what I do!" "And that includes mating with the first werewolf on sight, too?" I saw her cheeks turn red. She froze for several seconds, before she reply. "What…? How do you know?" "That's not of your concern." Then, she started growling at me. "So… you're going to mock me for it? Is it?!" "No. All I want is to bring you back. The others are pretty concerned about you." I spoke in an assertive voice and she looked calmer. "And besides, messing with savage werewolves is a bad idea. You know it. They had lost control upon themselves for long. You're going to get hurt if you continue with this madness." "You have no idea of what you're talking about." "In matter fact, I do. It is truth, isn't it? About you and Skjor?" "DON'T SAY THAT NAME!" She roared, as she began to tear out her armor with the claws emerged from her fingertips, bending to the transformation. Her desperate howl made the walls of the Underforge shake. "So you think you're the only one who suffers with his death more than anyone?" "Shut UP!" She charged to me. But I was ready: in a movement, I managed to take her right arm, and launched her over my shoulder. As she hits the ground, we listened to her elbow cracking and she immediately responded with a whimper. "You try that again and I ensure you'll never fire another arrow again!" I said out loud, releasing a growl from the depths of my throat. I pity her. Believe me. But she sees me as a pack leader, so I have to act like it. And when you chose to embrace that title, you cannot give any slack, or your subjects will start to doubt your sense of leadership. "You… you cannot even imagine… how much he means to me, even now…" She spoke, trying to regain her breath, but still without courage to move her right arm. "He was the only one who understood me. The only one, before you came, I really trusted… enough for us to start a relationship, off the records, of course. Skjor and I always enjoyed keeping the low profile." "But why keeping it a secret? What's the big deal?" "The big deal is that for much we enjoyed our romance as human beings, we had no problem in dating with our wolf forms. No one would see that with good eyes, especially Kodlak." "Why?" She reverted back to human, and then I had a naked nord woman, with the muscles tense, beneath the smooth pale skin, the red hair around her shoulders, and with a sharp look on her eyes. She smirked, shaking her head in disapproval. "You must be blind to not see it, Harbinger. It wasn't Kodlak the one who asked you to rip the wolf spirit out of his body? Give me a break! The man passed all his old age looking for a 'cure'! Now even the twins are considering it! And you still call us a pack? You and I are the only ones who treat lord Hircine with some dignity! The only ones that truly embraced his blessing! I knew you were different, right when you changed for the first time. The proof I was right is that ring you're wearing." I looked to the Ring of Hircine in my finger. Since the moment Hircine blessed it and gave it to me, I never took it off. "With Kodlak you have to avoid your beast at any costs. And for Farkas and Vilkas, those hypocrites, it isn't different! Those bastards seem stuck in the past! What kind of pack are we? We cannot hunt, howl at the moon, nothing! We live enclosure inside the city walls, and we must not run into a forest and get some fresh air, now and then!" "You know that one step away from civilization is one step closer to insanity, right?" "You're wrong! I still recognize who I am, I still venerate the nordic heroes of Skyrim, I believe in Sovngarde! I just made a choice! Just as many other Harbingers before Kodlak! What about you? How much prey did you tear apart? How much blood was shed by your claws and fangs? And you still know who you are, do you?" "I do." "The wolf spirit is a blessing from Hircine. And a blessing must not be taken freely. We are strong to keep it, to live in harmony with it. And it's part of this harmony to let your wild side take you, some nights. Do you ever know what happens when you avoid the transformations, Harbinger? I trust you never got that far…" I remembered Sinding, then. "Hircine curses you, and make your transformations go random?" "Good shot." She replied. "You pretty much close. I'll give you an idea: just a couple of weeks before, at night, I caught Vilkas in the training area, with claws of his fingers, and savage eyes. I heard him growling. He scratched the arrow targets deeply, until they were no more but a pile of ragged rope in the ground. His fingers started to bleed, and when he began licking the blood, he had to control himself not to eat his own hand. And Farkas… well, you already know it, don't you? One night he's perfectly fine, and in the next he just freaks out, and he might or turning Jorrvaskr upside down and ending up scratching and gorging upon raw pieces of venison, or kill some of the guards of the city!" I've never caught Vilkas with such attacks of anxiety. I always looked at him as a very controlled man. But what she said about Farkas is true. I remember the day I came to Jorrvaskr and thought that it was been assaulted by a hurricane, so what she said about his brother must be truth as well. "Feeling better, now?" "What is it this time, Harbinger?" "I came here to talk about you, and until now the only thing I've heard were you complaining about your comrades." "It must be an honor to you, then." She started with an ironic pitch on her voice that quickly faded away. "As you must understand, I've never told this to anyone else. As to my… nocturnal adventures, if that's the only thing that matters to you, I will not going to stop. I need this. In my human form, I will be faithful to Skjor till the day I die, but when the wolf crawls for the need, I have no choice but to let it follow its path. I confess, at first, I felt uneasy for what I was doing. But I can't deny it: it always feels good… and somehow, it makes me remember him every single time." "I hope you know what you're doing." "I can handle myself." Then, she paused, looked to her shattered armor on the ground. "Now, if you can make me this favor, I would like to have a decent armor to wear, at least until I ask Eorlund to forge me a new one. I cannot appear in the main hall to dinner like this!"_

 _At that hour of the night, all the stores were closed, and it was too late for me to forge armor for her. So I passed by Breezehome, to see if I got something in my dresser that could fit her. I may have found the perfect armor for her: a wolf armor, which has this name for being forged out of wolf pelts._

 _"Here you go." I said when I came back to the Underforge, throwing the full set to Aelas arms. "Where did you find it?" She asked, sniffing the armor. "In my home." "Right… thank you." When she dressed it, she started to look at herself. "I've never thought I would use armor equal to Vilkas one. Mine was sexier." "Be careful next time, then. But if you want my opinion, I think that armor suits you better. You may keep it, if you want." "Thank you, Harbinger!" For the first time since I met her, I saw her with a genuine smile of gratitude. "Well, let's go!" "Yeah… right… I don't think there's food left on the table for us."_

Suddenly, the sounds inside the house silenced. Next, the door opened, and a big werewolf emerged. Aela, the huntress, immediately bent herself at my sight. She was fighting at her every step to not loose balance, her breath was heavy and her fur shines at the moonlight with sweat. "Now it's my turn, then." I commented, but she ignored me. Instead she began gazing the entrance of the Jarls Longhouse. "Do not even think of it!" I said assertively, while trying to keep my voice down. She attempted me, putting her tail between her legs. I was dealing with a full wolf, now. Her human being was hidden in the deepest parts of her soul. Luckily, her wolf was obedient, plus it was too tired to try to oppose me, even if she wanted. "Now, go! Run to the forest and beware the men! As for the other creatures, you may hunt as much as you please." She made a gesture quite similar to a bow, before running to the wilderness outside the town. The moment I lost sight of her, I stepped into the house.

The sound of deep snarls echoes throughout the house walls. Right in front of me, a big werewolf lays down, too deep in his sleep to even sense my odor or notice the sound of my steps. Next to him, within a pile of a dozen guards, bathed in blood, with shattered armors and broken swords around them, lay the corpses of the family he slaughter: Mathies and Indara. Then, I remembered: it wasn't their daughter the one who also died at the claws of a werewolf? Sinding? "This family was cursed…" I cooed to by buttons. Then I took my battleaxe and I swung it as hard as I can: I separate the beasts head from the rest of the body. He didn't even try to fight for his life. He didn't wake up, or so ever. It was an easy kill. That's why, beside all the setbacks, I don't resist to bring Aela with me. Werewolves are dangerous beasts. I caught myself into 'life or death' situations because of them. And she willingly makes the hard stuff: she tires them, weakens them. So when I step in I can kill them and go out without a scratch. It's like a deal between us.

The work has been done. It was time to get myself out of there. But then… my hands start to tremble and the weapon I was carrying slipped away of my fingers. My whole body shivers, my heart begin pounding fast, and I feel my mouth start salivating. The blood… the corpses… the smell of the fresh kills… was inebriating. The wolf inside me crawls desperately beneath my skin. I feel a hungry growl forming in the depths of my throat. The bloodlust. It's taking me. The powers of Hircine, this wild side within me, started to call, in a way awkwardly seductive. I wanted to hunt, to kill, to gorge! The fangs started to grow on my mouth, which is still too small to accommodate them properly. In addiction my gums started to bleed. As I taste my own blood, I started to sweat, and to feel myself hotter and hotter. Claws burst from my fingers, and try to scratch my armor apart: I need to cool down. I feel trapped in my own clothes. I started to panic, mixed with the urge of claiming those preys as mine.

"Stop!" I demanded to myself. I need to maintain my posture. I cannot turn now. I cannot turn here. The army of Whiterun will be here soon. _Feed! Feel their taste! Feast on them!_ "NO!" I screamed. No! I cannot! I will not! I closed my eyes, looking for quietude in the darkened sight. _A wolf…? I'm more than that… Zu'u Dovahkiin!_ When I opened my eyes, the words came to me. " _FUS ROH DAH_!" At my voice, the corpses were projected to the opposite wall of the house. And it wasn't just the corpses I pushed aside, but I also calmed my wolf spirit, that I had thought to be winning seconds ago. I inhaled and exhaled, slowly and deeply, and feel myself turn back to normal. And without even bother in taking the battleaxe I dropped, I left the house.

The air around Falkreath is fresh and clean, especially at night. The breeze caresses my face, as the sweet scent of the pine trees clear out my nostrils and pacifies my soul. Then, out of sudden, the smell of burnt wood and oil starts to get notice in the wind: the stench of burning torches. The warriors of Whiterun are coming, stepping closer at the request of the frightened town to kill a beast they don't know it's already dead. But I will not be the one giving them the good news. Let them come and tell the Jarl to have more faith in the Companions next time. As for me, after this battle with my inner beast being won by close, it's better for me and all the other people if I kept myself away from civilization for tonight. I don't transform for nearly two months, since I promised myself to only turn in times of true need. But I'm aware that I'm pushing too far with this. Aela was right: one night, the wolf is going to take me. Hircine always wins.


	3. The exiles

"C'mon, guys! We don't have much time until the night falls! And we have to clear that shack before they spread out to hunt more people!" Isran screamed from the first floor balcony, while everyone else rushes in the lower floor to prepare themselves for one more battle, tonight: Sorine Jurard was just turned over a brand new and improved set of crossbows for all the warriors of Dawnguard, Gumnar was throwing meat to the trolls corral to keep them fed for the night, and Florentinus enchanted the armors of Sceolang and Bran (the Dawnguard war dogs) with a vampire burning magic, just in case of any of them try to take the fort while the warriors are out. "Today, you two should stay." He said to them, petting their heads, in spite of the dogs didn't seem very pleased.

I was next to Durak, who was sharpening his blades at the grindstone, while I waited for my turn. "I'm happy you came to join us for the next few days. You should think on staying here more often." He commented. "You know that I've more things to worry about than just hunt vampires every night." "Everyone has his own priorities, am I right? As you wish, although I think you'd value more our cause if you, or anyone you love, ever knew how it feels to be bitten or killed by one of those monsters. At least while you stay you will save us a lot of trouble, so it's best for us enjoy it while you don't disappear again." He finished, leaving the grindstone available, and giving me a friendly tap on my shoulder as he passes.

In a few minutes, I reunited with the rest of the crew in Dawnguards hall. Isran was in front of us, staring the team with a harsh expression. "Everyone's ready?" "Yes, boss!" They answered. Yeah, I said 'they', because I never worked truly here. As with me, so did Serana maintain her silence, or she wouldn't be the black princess of the Valkihar family. "Good! Moth Priest, you'll stay here guarding the fort!" The blind man nodded, with both Sceolang and Bran on each side of him. "For the rest of you, be cautious. No one could notice our presence in the Rift, once we made out Dayspring Canyon. If you see any guard, make sure he doesn't escape. Don't left any witnesses, understood?" As the warriors nodded silently, I notice Serana by the corner of the eye gazing me with a septic expression. I understood her question. I have the same one: what's the big deal about the Rift? The men looked suspicious, tense… they seem to fear the hold more than the vampires they're about to fight. Why? "Now let's clean Skyrim of these blood-leeches! Onward!" He finished, drawing his weapon and leading the way. I left myself stay behind. Serana was sat in a nearby bench, with crossed arms and a thoughtful look on her face. "It seems they forgot you." I said. She shrugged in response. "Well, it's not the first time. I guess I'm getting used to it." "They're giving you any trouble?" "Not really. Just Isran thinks it's odd to ask a vampire to kill its own kind, and… well, the rest of the crew, and specially the orcs, only seem to wait for an excuse to kill me. They don't trust me." "And how do you know that?" "Apart of Isran being the only one to give me a word or two, and only when he's in a good mood, I'm a vampire and they are vampire hunters! What should I expect?" She sighed. "You can go. I'll help the old man with the guard duty. It will not be a pair of dogs that will save him if a group of vampires decide to take down the Fort." "And yet it's foolish of them to let their best weapon rusting in here." "Hey! Who said I'm rusty?" She growled sulkily. "You know that if the probability of the Fort being taken down by vampires were any higher, Isran would never leave only a blind man and a pair of dogs to guard this place. So you can show me your true value by getting up your ass and join us tonight." In spite of being a bit upset by the way I talked to her, although it was more of a compliment than an insult, she stood up. "I prefer to follow you than that bossy redguard anyway…" She admitted. I smirked to her, which she replied back. Then we rushed out of the Fort, hoping not to miss the others.

We reached what it looked like an abandoned shack, west of Autumnshade Clearing. Between the bushes, Isran made a sign for us to stop. "There. That's where we find them. Now you know the rules. The less notice us, the better. Let's try to clear this out without they even notice." "Something is wrong, here." The voice of Celann agitated the hunters for a couple of seconds. "As far as I can see, I only spot one of them. That woman sat on a wooden chair. This is too easy." "Of course… That's because all the vampires are underground." Seranas voice emerged sounding so obvious that I heard Celann grinding his teeth. "Follow me." She ordered, much to disfavor of Isran. "Since when you start giving us orders?" He argued. "Since it's a perfect plan: we sneak in as my 'guests' and kill them as soon as they distracting." With a grumpy face, he allowed the crew to follow her plan. We walked in a single line, with Serana on the lead. When she approached the young vampire, she was welcomed with open arms. "Welcome to Redwater Den, sister! How can I assist you in this lovely evening?" "Redwater Den? What is this place?" "Why don't you go down and see for yourself? I'm sure you're going to like it." She said with soft voice, pointing to a trap-door leading to an underground area, just like Serana predicted. "Redwater, hein? Why this doesn't sound very good to me?" Ingjard whispered to Beleval, right behind. "Who are they?" The vampire suddenly asked to Serana. "My guests." She answered with irony. The vampire licked her lips, and asked with a seductive voice. "Perhaps you don't mind to introduce me that one, later?" Then, she pointed to Agmaer, who swallowed loudly in response. "Maybe… Now let us pass." She stepped aside. At the line, Isran passed a dagger to Agmaer hands. "It's all yours, kid." He whispered. By the time he passes through her, he first gaze her, then, in a reflex, carved the dagger in her chest and twisted the blade. The eyes of the vampire were wide open by surprise, and so did her mouth, although incapable of releasing any sound. He pulled her towards him, pressed his lips against her hear, whispering. "It was nice to meet you." Before drop her. "That was good, kid. I must confess that for brief moments I didn't think you could make it." "The more I know about them, the more I want to banish this race from Tamriel." Isran looked at him proudly. "Let's move!"

Downstairs, we reached a small area. There was a door which appeared one more set of stairs to deeper underground. Leaning against the wall, right next to the entrance, was a man, tall and strong, with a complete set of shrouded armor shining bright. "Hold it! If you desire to go any further, keep your weapons to yourself… or this might get ugly for you." "No problem." Serana elevated her eyes to his causing him to immediately bend in front of her in a sign of respect. One more time, as we passed, one of us gets the weapon ready to strike. This time, it was Isran himself, aiming the crossbow in lightning reflexes to shoot the thrall that had no chance to move a muscle in his defense. The steel bolt crossed his forehead and through the wall. Mogrul couldn't resist laughing over the vampire nailed against the wall, fighting against himself to keep his voice as low as possible. "I love when you do that, man!" He said, although Isran didn't seem inclined to listen.

We couldn't believe in our eyes once we made through those stairs. This was much more than a simple vampire hunt: that place was a drug den. The air was heavy by the smoke of skooma circling everywhere. "Good evening, gentlemen! If you need anything, you just need to ask." We were approached by a male vampire dunmer, presumably an attendant. "We're fine, thanks." We've stop. By that time, none of us seemed to know what to do. I called Isran to my side keeping my voice low. "I'm going to talk with the dealer, over there. You and the rest of the crew might have a look on this place: see if those people inside the cells are dead or alive, secret entrances, doors… pretty much anything that looks suspicious." He nodded, and while the attendant started an animated conversation with Serana in the corridors, I must keep the dealer busy… and perhaps gathering more information about this place… "Welcome, welcome! I don't believe we've seen you here before, have we? You can buy from me, and then join any booth you'd like." The dealer was a female bosmer, with two small and hilarious pony-tails on each side of her head. "What is this place?" "Are you serious? This is Redwater Den, purveyors of the best skooma outside of Balmora." "What's so special about your skooma?" "The secret is the mystic Redwater Spring. The magic in the waters opens the mind to experience skooma in a way like never before. But, since you're so curious about it, why don't you take a sample, since it's your first time here?" She readily put a red skooma bottle on the table, smiling at me with avid eyes. "No thanks. I think some ale can do the trick for tonight." "Seriously, ale? Would you ask a chalice of water in a meadery?" She asks suddenly with skepticism, before recompose herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Ale shall be. Perhaps in another night you'll be brave enough to try the house specialty." I smiled and took the bottle, heading to Isran, few meters away from me. "You're kidding me, right? You must be." This was his reaction when he saw the bottle on my hand. I didn't expect it to be any different. "No. The woman tried to give me a sample of a 'special' kind of skooma which is produced here. Since I denied it, I thought it was unwise to leave her without any request." The redguard stared at me furiously. Meanwhile, so Celaan showed his displease. "It doesn't matter. The last thing we need is to have one of our warriors drinking before a fight. We are in a mission! Don't forget that." I took two swallows from the bottle and then I passed it to him. "Take it. That way I will not feel dizzy in the middle of the fight." I replied with irony. Fact is that even if I got drunk with a bottle of ale – which is impossible – I will still fight better than this whole crew together. "You're pushing too far, girl." Isran threaten. "Now it's not the most propitious time, or place, to argue, don't you think? Besides, it was all to keep the disguise credible, ok? The woman mentioned a Redwater Spring that must be below this place." "Even more grounded than this?" Ingjard complained. "What did you find?" I asked to Isran, although it was Durak the one who answered. "This place hasn't very much to be found, honestly: besides of the door behind the dealer and that barred door at the edge of the corridor, the people or are in deep sleep or too dizzy to even talk. They're hopeless." "Ok, let's move, then. Once I kill the dealer, you take care of the attendant." I sneak out from behind the unsuspected dealer, and I ripped her life with a slash of her throat. When the attendant founded up, he was too late. The Dawnguard charged silently, and I saw his eyes dry as his soul faded.

We took the keys of them. The door behind the dealer balcony can only be opened from the other side, so we took the barred door at the end of the corridor. As we passed through the side cells and looked the moribund men inside, Serana suddenly stopped, gazing at a male imperial. "What's up, girl?" Isran asked, trying not to look too concerned. "Nothing. Carry on. I'll meet you then." "What are you going to do?!" Durak demanded, immediately drawing his weapons. When Serana faced him, her eyes were glowing brightly. "As you said, these men are doomed. And that one is going to die, sooner or later. I'm hungry, ok? So move you asses if that upsets you that much! I'll join you later." The Dawnguard froze at such words: in spite of consider the vampire feeding habits as disgusting and savage, none of them resisted the curiosity and assisted the scene wide eyed, as Serana approached the fresh corpse, biting it on the neck, while hold it in an almost loving manner, sucking his blood. I decided not to watch. I know how much she hates the feeling of being watched, judged, and how she considered the men as hypocrites (allegedly, this was one of the reasons why she decided to remain as a vampire instead of searching for a cure, when she had a chance). After a few seconds, she released the body, licking her bite marks and the blood from its skin. "We can go, now." She was remarkably upset. "Now that was disgusting…" The comment was said by Beleval, and only made Serana's expression to become even grumpier. "I told you to leave! You chose to stay! So you might stop with that shit? Let's go!" She demanded. Isran didn't like the way she talked. "Watch your tongue, lady." He threaten. "Like I care!" They were both bossy, and since Serana was accepted in the Dawnguard legion, it's been an endless fight for dominance between those two.

Isran conceded her wish. In spite of doing everything he can to hide it, he fears her. Everybody does. I can sense that. Even so, he spat on the floor before ordering the team to advance. Once more, I stood behind with her. "Bastards…" She murmured. "It's a horrible sensation, trust me. At least you're lucky: when you feed, people generally are more focused in running for their lives than stay staring at you with a stupid look on their faces." She was the only one of the Dawnguard that knew about my beast blood. "I envy you, sometimes." "Don't say that. You'll see: someday, they will get used to it. They have no choice. You're member of the Dawnguard, now." She began smirking out of nothing. "What's so funny?" "If they knew, I think they would be dismantled the organization… Isran probably could never bare such a shame." Suddenly, I've got a bad feeling about the course of this conversation. "What do you mean?" "I've been feeding on them for a month, at least." I knew it! Damn it! "Say again? Are you out of your mind?!" I forced my tone to stay low, but now I was concerned, and upset. One of the reasons they accepted her was because she swear only to feed herself on blood potions. "What did you expect? Those guys only leave the damn fort to hunt vampires! My blood potions wouldn't last forever!" "If they suspect on something, you know you're as good as dead!" "They don't notice anything: I just approach them, as they sleep as deeply as babies, one tiny bite, a few sips of blood, licking the wound till it heals completely, and they woke up the next morning as nothing happened. Besides, I don't feed on the same guy two nights straight – it's by turns. One tonight, another in the next, and by the time I return to the same guy I started with, his body had more than time to replace the missing blood in his system." I was looking to them, leading the expedition in what it turned to be a giant gallery of subterranean caves, with an angry redguard in command, and I didn't resist giggling. "I bet Isran was the first…." "Oh yeah, he was. No blood satisfies me more than his." She answered with a twisted smile.

It wouldn't take long for us to catch up with the rest of the crew, all in stealth mode, looking the scenario ahead: the layered platforms, leading upward to reach the top of the gigantic vats of boiling red skooma, spitting those toxic fumes through the cavern. Next to us, the shelves were full with panoply of poisons and potions. I took whatever I need before any of them even notice.

Then, at the distance, a vampire noticed us, and quickly we had to fight three of them. Isran managed to kill one of them before he got too close, and the others, outnumbered, quickly succumbed to the combined attacks of the Dawnguard warriors.

"C'mon, we have to find a way out of here! Follow me!" Isran pointed us the way through the underground labyrinth. The passages reminded me of those of an abandoned mine, and the fouling veins, confirmed my suspicions. An elevated bridge at the top platform, aside the vats, granted us access to the rest of the cave, leading to a path of dark tunnels, pointing down. On the way, I started to ear the typical sound of a pickaxe digging through rock. With a gesture, I commanded the guys to stay quiet, as I silently approached what's meant to be a vampire thrall miner, draw my bow and knock him out with a single shot to the back of his head. "Hey! Over here!" Ingjard had just killed a vampire with her crossbow, pointing us to an archway, which ended up being a tiny room, with a broken shelf with a lost potion, and a dead thrall… the rest was a pile of rock blocking the way. "A death end?" The others commented with concerned looks. "There!" Celaan noted. From there, we can see two corridors: the one that took us there, and the other one, aside, that should be the way out. "Shit! You vampires cannot build something less resembling with a fucking labyrinth?!" Ingjard complained to Serana, who decided not to answer. After shattering a walking skeleton apart, we followed the tunnels, until we encounter… a wall. "I can't believe this! No way out! And it's for real, this time!" Morgrul seemed seriously concerned. "No! It can't be! Find a way! There must be a way!" Ordered Isran. "Any idea, Cellan?" Durak asked, looking rather amused.

I began to watch the surroundings carefully. In spite of being a pain in the ass, Isran was right: it must have a way out of here. As I touched the stone wall, I felt a depression that I recognized immediately. Looking to both sides, now focused in what I have to find, I spotted it, hidden behind a massive quantity of hanging moss: a chain. Once I pulled it, the concealed door moved slightly backwards, before open. And then, what previously seemed like an old mine, now it started to look more like an ancient Nordic barrow. The others looked the door as it slides down, with amazement. "What is this place?" Durak sighted. "I don't care! I'm loving it!" Beleval answered, without hiding her excitement, much to the others skeptical expressions. Well, everyone except me, of course: after years of exploring ancient ruins, I'd fell in love with them. Maybe I just have founded a new partner to my adventures, perhaps?

The tunnels led us to an area with an open coffin. Aside, and ready for battle, layered a vampire and her faithful death hounds. And those cursed dogs always made these battles more difficult to win. Firstly, because their bite slows you down, and it's hard to heal. Another reason is that they are difficult to catch with a sword, and almost impossible with archery, since they began to run in circles like hyperactive skeevers. Fortunately, they can only attack one of us at a time. The other just has to be in the right place at the right time to blow its head off. Turns out, in spite of all of that, they are ridiculously easy to kill. And its master wasn't particularly a challenge. One blow with my dragon bone sword and she was knocked out for good. She fell next to a fire pit. Aside there was a table with a small arcane enchanter, and Serana was prostrated against it. "What is it?" Isran asked before I had time to do the same question. "Found a journal. Anyone here knows a guy named… Venarus Vulpin?" "Do I have a face of being a friend of these bastards? Of course not!" "Geez! Calm down, man! What's the big deal anyway? You're vampire hunters! You don't know any of your important targets by their names?" It's for certain that journals always contain a man's most intimate secrets. Reading one may always point us to a clue about the beginning of this place. "Well, one thing is for sure: if I had to bet, I would say that this Redwater Spring is somewhere behind that door." Said Durak. "There's a flow of blood-like waters coming from there." Then, we all attempted to the floor, viewing the red river slowly snaking in the stone. "There's no time to read terror stories right now. Come! Let's finish this!" Isran leaded the way, with me and Serana at his side. The rest followed behind with the weapons ready.

The image of the Redwater Spring once we opened was awkward and terrifying. It formed a circular shape in the stone, the waters bubbling violently, splitting out of the spring to form the streamlets along the floor, looking like blood veins. Alongside with the water splits, we could see also parts of human skeletons floating and being projected from its core. "I feel sick…" Angmaer said with weak voice. The man was bent over himself, holding his stomach firmly. "Hang on, pall." Said Durak, as the young man reunited his strengths to catch his breath and stand up, although he continued rather pale… even for a nord's standards.

"Who's there?" An imperial vampire quickly aimed his war-axe, descending from his throne. Aside of him, two other vampires prepared themselves to battle as well.

As Isran shouted a battle-cry, we charged. Thunderbolts rained upon us, by the hands of those creatures, but we had our tricks, too: the Dawnguard weaponry is unique – vampires are especially susceptible to its blows; Serana is great at destruction magic and a mistress when it comes to necromancy. As for myself, I wield the strongest weapons and armor that can be made – and I'm the only being in Skyrim who knows how to forge them – plenty of experience in the art of battle, and, of course, a dragon's Voice.

It was hard at first. Those bastards knew that they only will have advantage if they keep some distance from us. At beginning, I didn't consider myself to be battling: I was more the healer, trying to keep everyone alive. Those were ancient beasts. Their powers were enormous. But thank to the holy words: " _FUS ROH DAH_! [Unrelenting Force]", they were pushed aside and kissed the ground, enabling the whole team to take advantage from a break on their spells. When the blades hit them, as well as the Stendarr's aura which began to burn their walking corpses (since Florentinus insisted for us to use this spell), it made all the work much easier. Venarus was facing me, while the others took care of his assistants: the man didn't even have time to stand on his feet again.

I quickly looted his body. I founded another journal. "Hey, Serana! I have something for you!" I threw the book to her arms, and she smiled in response. "Thanks." "So… what are we suppose to do now?" I heard Ingjard asking to Isran. "Get out of here and burn this place to the ground." He started to walk quickly towards the exit. Durak and Beleval stood behind, waiting for us. Serana was giving a quick look to Venarus notes, and looked somewhat intrigued. "The bloodstone chalice? Wait a minute… I remember this." "What now, Serana? You heard the man, we have to leave." "I know, just… this spring had a link to the Bloodstone Chalice, an ancient vampiric relic!" "Quit with it already! Let's leave this place before it turns into aches!" Said Beleval. Serana was reluctant about leaving the spring. She quickly had a sip of the red waters, and rushed to the exit with us. "Is that blood, or something?" I asked her. "No, but it says to boost a vampire's powers. The bloodstone chalice is needed to keep the effects of the spring for a longer period of time." "Well, whatever those waters done to you, enjoy it while it least, girl."

Once we get outside, the others were already with torches lit. There was no ceremony: as soon as Isran spotted us, he launched the torches to the old shack, and it instantly turned into a massive bonfire.

We reach the Fort by daybreak. Everyone was around the table, celebrating one more successful hunt, except for Agmaer, who decided to go rest. I saw the women dance, and the men emptying bottles of wine. Serana putted herself aside from the party: she preferred to sat on the bench at the main hall and read those intriguing volumes of the life and the research of a dead vampire. I was with them, but I didn't really celebrate, too. It's not my fight. And the only reason I continue to visit them is because of Serana, who had become one of my best friends… and one amazingly strong follower.

Aside of me, Isran was sat with a serious expression. "What is it?" "Just thinking…" "You won, last night. You should be with a happy face, at least." "We won the battle, not the war. This will only end when I cut the head of the last of them." "You should be living the present, you know… Each battle you won is one step closer to your goal. And let me tell you that it is a tricky one." "Really? Why?" He asked with scepticism. "You never forget that you're fighting a daedra. Vampire extinction is something that, if Molag Ball allows it, it will take many generations to occur." He raised his eyes to me, reflecting on my words. Then, with a sip of his tankard, he answered. "Perhaps... But in what's depending on me, I will slaughter every one of them, no matter how much of these creatures Molag Ball creates. I will keep Skyrim safe." "You know that the vampires are not the only danger you can found on this land." "I know. But it were vampires those who killed my family right in front of my eyes… and I was only a child." He answered bitterly. I never once had seen him so… open. Must be the wine. But still I kept myself silent for a couple of minutes. Now all this hate for the vampires is explained. "So… you always lived here?" "Skyrim is where I born, where I live, and where I'll die for. My parents migrated from Hammerfell and ended up settle things here." "Sorry about them." "Don't be. Soon, those damn vampires will regret not to kill me when they had a chance. I'm not a child anymore, and I trained for this all my life! Now that I have my followers, each one as capable as me, those bastards will think twice about step into the night. The sun will be their minor concern!" "You founded the Dawnguard?" "Yes. I joined the Vigilants of Stendarr very young, right after being kicked out of the orphanage, but even then I could see their problem: they were looking just on the surface, on the tip of the iceberg, instead of digging deeper to find what lies beneath. Most of the time, they will just roam through Skyrim roads, to come back and say that 'it's all clear', just for you to hear about another attack in the next day. They said to dedicate themselves to eradicate any daedric worships, but vampires are by far the most dangerous menace we ever had in hands: immortal beings, which look human, but have a taste for the blood of the living, that can roam undetected inside the city walls, feast on anyone it wants, and go out to the safety of its cave without a scratch… So I decided to be more proactive: I started to train in heavy weapons, block, smiting, heavy armor… These creatures needed warriors to clean them from this earthly plane, not monks praying in a hut lost in the middle of the mountains! Once I felt confident enough to carry on by myself, I left the Vigilants, and started to appeal the jarls of every major city about the dangers people were facing without knowing." "And the jarls approved?" "The majority thought I was just being paranoiac. The jarl of Riften was the only one who took my words seriously. She said that after I reunite a sufficient amount of warriors to the cause, she will make us a recognized organization. And so I did. The problem was, by the moment the Dawnguard was founded, the mysterious deaths ceased throughout the territory. And as the time passed, so did the jarl started to doubt our purpose. Suddenly, she provided us no weapons, or armor, or any kind of support, and when I tried to reach her, she almost expelled me from Mistwell Keep. I was so furious back then, by the lack of thrust people had on us, that I actually started arguing with her. Of course, in a blink of an eye, we passed from faithful protectors to a brunch of bandits. I was forced to fight the guards and run. The majority of the Dawnguard, back then, managed to escape as well, but none of them came back for me, or the cause. They blamed me for their situation, and they were partially right. But the vampire ceasefire was not random. Those bastards knew it became too risky to attempt to hunt in that city. Only one of the previous members followed me to the caves we call Dayspring Canyon: Cellan, my best friend." And he pointed to him, so drunk he actually poured half of a bottle of wine on top of him, while he attempted to drink it. "Once we made inside, we discovered a hidden imperial fort. That tend you can see outside the fort was once our home. But because I was never lying to anyone, as soon as we were kicked from the city, the attacks started again, spreading throughout Tamriel. And so some people, mostly the ones who saw their loved ones being killed by those monsters, or simply survived an attack, started to look for the leftovers of our organization. It took years, but eventually the Dawnguard legion grew up again. And one day, when we became strong in numbers, we took the fort, and the imperials settle a camp nearby." "Why they simply don't leave this place?" "There's a reason why the fort was built inside these caves: those imperials are deserters, experienced warriors whose never bother about contouring the law to bring justice. According to the law, they committed several crimes, and some of them have bounties over their heads large enough to buy a house." "So that's the why of such caution every time you leave this place…" "Have to be. The majority of people in Skyrim think we're dead, and that's how we'll continue to be."


End file.
